John Nathan arrived in Tokyo in 1961 fresh out of Harvard College, bringing with him no practical experience, no more than two connections, no prospects, and little else to recommend him but stoic, unflappable pluck. Japan at that time was still in the shadow of the Occupation, and only a handful of foreigners were studying the country seriously. Two years later, Nathan became the first American to pass the entrance exams to the best school in Japan, the University of Tokyo. He went on to translate two of Japan's greatest contemporary writers, Yukio Mishima and Nobel laureate Kenzaburõ Õe, and direct several series of films in and about Japan in collaboration with world-famous directors and businesses; earn an advanced degree at Harvard and a professorship at Princeton; and become a Hollywood screenwriter. Nathan was given unprecedented access to the inner sanctum of Sony for his book The Private Life , and he explored the damaged psyche of postbubble Japan in his acclaimed Japan Unbound .
During his decades of passionate engagement with Japan, Nathan became close friends with many of the most gifted people in the land -- politicians and business leaders as well as painters, novelists, directors, rock stars, and movie stars -- and was privileged to travel, in their very special company, inside domains of Japanese life not normally open to foreigners then or now. In his unique chronicle of that journey, Living Carelessly in Tokyo and Elsewhere , he details the adventures sublime, profane, and uproarious, many of a distinctly Japanese nature, that characterized his career, which was singular in its success as much as in its chaos. Along the way, he brings the most exciting era in recent Japanese history vividly into focus with wry humor, penetrating insight, and pathos.
John Nathan is not the only foreigner to have developed a rich, full, deeply nuanced understanding of Japan. But his experiences are certainly extraordinary and in fact irreproducible, and his memoir is the most personally satisfying story yet told of Japan (and elsewhere). From Nathan's lifetime of wisdom, compassion, and brazen resolve, we learn the value of traveling within our own mental and emotional borders as well as without the many places we call home.
Came to this quick, fun, gossipy, self-effacing, intelligent memoir doing research for an essay on Mishima, and ended up totally enamored w/ John Nathan - one of those wonderful, wandering 20th century lives.
My interest in John Nathan stems from his fame as a literary translator. Among his most prominent achievements are the English editions of Yukio Mishima's The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With the Sea (translated 1965), Kenzaburō Ōe's A Personal Matter (translated 1968), and his Rouse Up O Young Men of the New Age (translated 1999). Of the latter work, Ōe enthused: “Your translation is miraculous – I felt as if I were discovering my book all over again.” (p.295)
Nathan's mastery of Japanese was hard-won: a B.A. in Far Eastern Languages from Harvard, grueling classes in poetry and 8th century Japanese classics at prestigious Tokyo University, long periods of residence in Japan, and a 17 year marriage with the remarkable Japanese artist Mayumi Oda. Yet, his relationship to Japan is frustratingly (for the reader) ambivalent.
One might imagine that a gifted translator simply nails up his shingle, posts his credentials and waits for the jobs to pour in. Not so! Nathan is deeply aware of the importance of relationships like “institutional memory” in Japan. Harvard and the International House of Japan were two important institutions in his career. Shortly after his graduation and arrival in Japan, Nathan contacted Yasaka Takagi, executive director of the International House and friend of Edwin Reischauer, one of Nathan's professors. Later, it was another I-House connection, Professor Henry Rosovsky, a specialist in the economic history of east Asia, who mentioned his name to Harold Strauss, editor-in-chief at Knopf. Strauss was seeking a translator for Yukio Mishima's next novel to be published in English. Even then, Nathan had to audition. At a small dinner with the publisher and author, Mishima, who had an excellent command of English, spoke to him only in Japanese. Then, Nathan was asked to submit a translation of the first chapter of Mishima's novel.
Nathan's connection to Ōe was also a chance circumstance. They met in 1964 at Mishima's Christmas party (undoubtedly the invitation was a formality since Ōe and Mishima were not friends). Ōe engaged Nathan to coach him in English after a brief conversation. He was preparing for a symposium of international writers organized by Henry Kisinger.
For all of that effort, a translator earns surprisingly little. At the time, Nathan states: “Americans have never had much interest in reading translations, certainly not Asian fiction translations....” Despite the prestige, the royalties he received for the Mishima book and Ōe's first book were biannually in the two figure range. Not even the Nobel Prize Ōe won in 1994 significantly boosted his finances. He had a family to support. Moreover, he was ambitious. He wanted to prove he had independent value. One also suspects he developed a taste for high living. He presents a lively picture of Mishima's flamboyant personality and imperious manner as he was swept up into a world of celebrity and glamor, surrounded by a '60's millieu of writers and artists, known as a bundan, during his year-long association with the author.
The author is most entertaining in describing his life in Japan. In one anecdote he has a disastrous encounter with the Japanese-style squat toilet as a guest at a family's New Year's dinner party. He met Kōbō Abe (author of Woman in the Dunes and collaborator with Hiroshi Teshigahara in the film of the same title) through Ōe. Abe was an epicurean who constantly pressed Nathan to sample unusual delicacies. Nathan balked at the sea urchin and Abe reproved him. “'[Y]ou'll never understand Japan if you can't appreciate the taste of sea urchin.'” Nathan admits: “I worked hard at this and got over my distaste, but uni remains absent from my list of favorite things to eat.” (p.86)
Despite his cultural sophistication and fluency, he never felt completely completely himself in Japan. His only friend during the Tokyo University years was a fellow iconoclast, Takehiko Noguchi, who went on to become an important literary critic. Both chafed at the self-regard of their fellow students and an attitude of seriousness that bordered on the pompous. Noguchi had a sensitive ear and interjected such criticisms as “'That's foreigner Japanese. Is that what you meant to say?'” (p.53). His candor did much to hone Nathan's mastery of the language. Much later, Noguchi would translate Nathan's highly regarded biography of Yukio Mishima into Japanese (translated 1975).
The memoir primarily spans the author's life from 1961 to 2002. He describes the intense disappointment he felt when his ambitious proposal for a Japanese Literature Translation Institute to be funded by the government in the sum of $10 million fizzled. The memoir includes a couple of decades of film-making projects which I found less interesting although the ventures provoked considerable financial turmoil for him.
I was particularly struck by Nathan's ambiguous relationships in Japan. Mishima treated him like a friend until Nathan's “betrayal” by agreeing to translate Ōe's novel. He failed to understand that Mishima expected complete loyalty in return for being admitted into his orbit. Later, he develops a growing relationship with Ōe who invited the author and his family to his home. Was it friendship or a gracious gesture of politeness? I was never quite sure. Over the years, the relationship seemed to have faded. At one point, Nathan mentions that Ōe had grown more reclusive with old age. In the end, I never felt like I knew any of these people on a more intimate level.
The author's concluding words are both sad and hopeful. He resides in the U.S., teaching on the faculty of the University of California, Santa Barbara. “I shall of course return; the remoteness I am feeling doesn't mean that I am finished with a culture that still fills me with wonder. If I have lost anything it is the hopeless desire to discover my fugitive identity in a society where I will never belong.” (p.308)
John Nathan is a translator who did the translation for Yukio Mishima's "The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With the Sea" and at least three novels by Kenzaburō Ōe. He also wrote a book on Sony and more important (to me at least) a biography on Mishima. A very good bio on that fantastic character. His memoir when he's in Japan is fascinating, but elsewhere not that interesting to me. Not his fault, but I think he should have focused the entire book on Japan and its culture. Nathan also got himself involved in the film business, both in Japan (good) and in the U.S. (not that interesting).
His relationship with the Japanese writers Mishima, Ōe, and Kōbō Abe is a fascinating read. Mishima was the superstar, and it seems Ōe resents his politics (totally understandable) but also Mishima was such a flamboyant figure in the Japanese writing world. Nathan's observations on family, homes, and living in Japan, is very accurate, and he does capture being an odd fish full of other fishes quite well. If I was the editor, I would just focus only on Japan, and just more material on Mishima and the Japanese literary scene. That stuff is always interesting.
Japanologist, translator, documentary filmmaker John Nathan gives us a memoir packed with delightful stories from his years in Japan and, yes, elsewhere. There's an ebb and flow in these pages as Nathan reflects on his life's paths while either (humbly) patting himself on the back or kicking himself for perceived wrong turns.
He's a bold writer, and Living Carelessly is compelling for its acute honesty and Nathan's sharp insights and wryness. He's lived life on a large scale. But carelessly, he has us believe. In the 1960s, he translated Yukio Mishima's The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea and Kenzaburo Oe's A Personal Matter and regularly hung out with these authors. He also made three documentary films in Japan in the 70s (Full Moon Lunch is currently on YouTube. I couldn't track down The Blind Swordsman or Farm Song). In the book, he recounts his failures in Hollywood later and, yes again, elsewhere.
There's a wry sense of humor that surfaces throughout his writing, whether he's lamenting about salaries and royalties for certain projects or describing the quirks and whims of renowned artists or sharing stories about his two families.
I liked his anecdotes and fun facts about Mishima and Oe.
"Mishima had no sense of rhythm; his dancing looked like death throes."
And his recollections of his youthful years out on the town.
"...[they] kept your highball glass full without waiting to be asked, a Japanese custom that made moderation impossible, like drinking from a magically replenishing glass."
There are also regrets and self-flagellation.
"Striving, and failing, to feel superior, I tumble into despair about myself, which blinds me to what I have achieved and prevents me from finding any pleasure in it."
But the mixture of humor and despairing with a balance between inward- and outward-looking reportage works well. A few parts bored me. For example, the thirty or so pages he goes on about his days making TV commercials for AT&T and other companies. Overall, though, it's an interesting read with lots of "appearances" by famous (mostly male) faces in Japan, and elsewhere, including Donald Richie, Donald Keene, Peter Coyote, Akira Kurosawa, John Updike, Shintaro the "crude, misogynist scoundrel" Katsu, Saul Bellow, Robert Duvall, George Lucas, Francis Ford Coppola, Michelangelo Antonioni, Shintaro Ishihara and New Kids on the Block!
Shelved between Ian Buruma's A Tokyo Romance (2018) and Robert Whiting's Tokyo Junkie (2021).
John Nathan might be best known as translator and biographer of Yukio Mishima. But he also translated Oe Kenzaburo, and many people consider him to be one of the great critics and translators of Japanese literature.
He arrived in the early 1960s after earning a BA in Japanese literature from Harvard, where he studied under Edwin O. Reischauer. In Tokyo, he hit the ground running, accepted into Tokyo University as one of the first foreign nationals to pass the ordinary entrance exam. Then, meeting Mishima, he quickly became involved in translation, starting with Mishima’s The Sailor Who Fell from Grace with the Sea. Mishima, who was hell-bent on getting the Nobel Prize, tried to get Nathan to sign on as his official translator, but surprisingly, Nathan had already become enamored with Kenzaburo Oe. I say surprisingly because for a long time, Nathan’s biography of Mishima was required reading in literature departments. By the time that book came out, however, Nathan had become much more interested in Oe’s work, going on to produce the English translations that would earn Oe the Nobel Prize in 1994.
I checked this book out from the library -- I knew absolutely nothing about John Nathan beforehand and I wasn't sure what to expect. In the book I found a yellow sticky with writing from someone else who checked it out. The sticky says:
"Amazing how insensitive he is in regards to others"
I find it amazing how naive he is after all those years living in Japan and all the work he has done. But maybe it isn't naivete at all, maybe it's arrogance?
I did find the book interesting from a cultural/historical perspective. There are a lot of Japanese writers, actors and "important" people discussed in the book that I didn't know about.
A few things that bother me about Nathan and his writing (nothing that gives away the story):
1. He seems pedantic (fancy word) 2. He uses fancy words like impecuniously, transmuting, presentiment, hauteur, paterfamilias, insouciant, and many more 3. He was given a Ph.D - he didn't have to work for it
I was first conscious of John Nathan as the biographer and translator of Yukio Mishima, I read his book on Mishima after I learned that Paul Schrader had used it as the basis of his excellent biopic movie on Mishima-Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters. After that I learned that Nathan had translated the first Mishima novel I read, The Sailor Who Fell From Grace With The Sea, that a friend gave me in college. That alone would be enough to make me interested in his biography, Living Carelessly In Tokyo And Elsewhere (2008). But I also saw a film, The Blind Swordsman, he made about Shintaro Katsu the star of the Zatoichi franchise, for the supplement DVD for the Zatoichi box set. It was one part that was made for a PBS three part series he directed called The Japanese. There was one section in the book in which a couple friends of his were upset that he focused a segment on a unappealing character such as Katsu who showed the worst side of the Japanese male chauvinism to foreigners. Textbook reaction-the Japanese are obsessed by how the world sees them. The more I learned about him the more intrigued I was. He states that this Jewish East coast transplant to Arizona went back east to Harvard for college and felt the need for a "monkey" to make him standout from the other brilliant people at the school and "Japanese" was his "monkey"-his words. He trained his "monkey" well, as he became the first foreigner admitted to Tokyo University and a few years later had translated Mishima's book. His early days in Tokyo were fascinating, because so few people from the west were doing what he did. And in many ways it was not so different from my trajectory of teaching English conversation before landing at a college. I intimately know all the neighborhoods he was referring to during his Tokyo days. As a result he knew all the old Japanese hands through his connections at Harvard, as well as many of the major movers and shakers in literature and cinema in turn. After that he returned to America to continue his academic career but came back to make a film with New Wave legend Hiroshi Teshigahara, Summer Soldier, an anti-war film that sounds like it could have had promise, but it seems to have been compromised by two separate visions of the film. He eventually gets his PhD without doing the usual coursework, but why not, he had also translated Nobel Prize winning author Kenzaburo Oe's seminal novel A Personal Matter as well as having penned a well-respected biography of Yukio Mishima. None of this was enough for him-it seems he wanted the lifestyle of Katsu with wine women, song and money. I think he also felt that being big in Japan or about Japan was not respected enough for him. He admitted to being taken aback by Saul Bellow's assessment of him being the best "squaw man" he had ever met, Bellow visiting was suggesting that he had made himself interesting by assuming his wife's cultural identity to be interesting. So he chased Hollywood and eventually ended up making business films and was out of academia for 14 years before retreating back to it as Oe won his Nobel Prize-getting the Takashima Professor of Japanese Cultural Studies at University of California, Santa Barbara. It seems a bit of a shame that he wasted those years chasing money and conventional respectability. I can understand the dreams in the movie business more than respectability in the business world in which he ultimately crapped out. All in all he lived and lives a fascinating life.
I'm generally pretty fascinated with tales of expats, gaijin and especially the literary lives of Asia hands, so this was right up my alley. The writing is fluid and there are good segments of literary history, gossip and then the rest of John Nathan's life. After accomplishing early important translations of Mishima and Kenzaburo Oe, who would go on to win the Nobel Prize for Literature, he ditched his Japan gaijn success story for a rollercoaster career of less lasting importance back in the US, and had a very interesting lifelong entanglement with Japan and his place there.
He initially left Japan after Shintaro Katsu, a famous Japanese film actor, told Nathan: “‘You understand us and when you speak you sound just like we do,’ he rumbled, and then, switching to English, ‘But, John, in Japan you cannot win!’
I think the literal implication that a non-Japanese can never win in Japan is the correct interpretation here (just ask former Nissan CEO Carlos Ghosn), but Nathan took it differently:
"How right he was, I remember thinking that night, but for a different reason than he supposed. I took his words to mean that victory in Japan would never be a victory I had truly earned. For years I had been troubled by the possibility that I possessed the wherewithal to distinguish myself only as an exotic foreigner in an insular island country. I was determined to prove myself on home ground.”
As a memoir, it is not exemplary but it is highly readable and solidly interesting. I'll not throw in any spoilers for now!
Taking a day off from the usual grind to relax and read, I ended up wolfing down this book having little idea when I started reading it on a whim, I would enjoy it so much.
Fascinating insights on midcentury Japanese authors and filmmakers, American writers, painters, and filmmakers as JN’s story bounces around from Japan to NYC, Boston, California, and then back to Japan beginning in the early ‘60s. Rinse. Repeat. His foray into documentary filmmaking in Japan is interesting as well. I found several of his films on YouTube, and I’m especially looking forward to watching his 1981 documentary “Colonel Comes to Japan,” an expose of KFC’s entry into the Japanese marketplace which is alive & well in 2022! (Just ask any Japanese person about KFC & Christmas dinner.) Nathan’s first wife is Mayumi Oda, famous for her screenprinted goddesses and political & environmental activism. As a side note, I own several frocks sewn from textiles created from Oda’s artwork sold by Western Aloha on the Big Island of Hawai’i, where Oda currently lives. A cool coincidence as I had never heard of John Nathan before reading this book.
I plan to read Oe & Mishima now. Both authors have been on my list.
This is an amazing tale - a talented figure who moved from NYC’s lower east side to Tucson in Arizona - and then to a life inextricably linked to Japan, its literary world - Mishima, Abe, Ōe among others - translation, film-making and the world of business. There are two remarkable wives and children from both whom he loves. It is an adventure. For anyone with a love of Japan and a closeness to its people - this is an illuminating and confirmatory story that any connection with Japan is indeed worth while…
This is a series of chronological autobiographical vignettes by a distinguished translator of Japanese works and multi-purpose film maker. It's the story of how a 6'4" Jewish boy from New York City/Tuscon went to Harvard, became enthralled with the Japanese language, went to Japan, went native and returned to the US, often relying on his youthful Japanese immersion for employment and career.
There are wonderful descriptions of Japan, such as waiting for the results of the University of Tokyo entrance exam, living with Mayumi's family, the people and production of the documentary trilogy and the night life of Japan in its postwar boom. There are portraits of Mishima and Oe, the home of a Noh actor and stories about the economics of writing and translation. Nathan had a singular experience in post-war Japan. The early vignettes are worthy of their own volume.
Stateside, this interesting life encompasses two academic careers, script writing, production of successful commercials and business videos and a crisis in the business itself. There are glimpses of Nathan's two families, a description of Nobel Prize proceedings and several returns to Japan.
The value of this book for me was that it re-kindled my interest in Japanese fiction and post-war Japan.
I would deem John Nathan's autobiography bittersweet. Indeed, he had a great good fortune to be in the crucial period of Japan that I envy, though his self-involvement may have prevented him from really appreciating his circumstances.
Though I have no qualms in his ambivalence about Japan having lived in Tokyo in it's heydey in the early '80s, during that weird bi-polar xenophobic love/hate nature of the Japanese. Gaijins were generally considered a strange mix of celebrity status and circus acts, while being a sansei (third-generation Japanese American) I was thought of as inferior buck tooth cousin from the New World.
I enjoyed it and would recommend it to anyone who has spent time in Japan, especially Tokyo.
The accounts of Nathan's relationship to great writers like OE and ABE are endearing. His recalling of vivid memories from a dynamic time in Japanese literary history is a treat. His prose is honest and he is self-reflective, and self-examining in a way that is refreshing for an autobiography, and excuses him the occasional pretension. I do think he sometimes exposes cultural insensitivity despite his deep background in Japan - which he is sometimes aware of and sometimes unaware of. His casual teasing of aspects of Japanese society is really only funny to the outsider looking in. I don't think he's a cultural anthropologist, in other words, more of a storyteller.
Many people have commented that they didn't like this book because of John Nathan's ego. I found that the most fascinating thing about the book, about how this guy is ruthlessly criticizing himself and his decisions, trying as much as possibly to view his younger self clearly, to say point blank how his own arrogance may have tripped up his entire life.
Filled with anecdotes to thrill total Japan geeks (inside gossip on Japanese literary and arts world of the 60s and 70s, ooh!), but basically just a hodgepodge of stories without any real narrative arc or particular flair for language.
Kind of dull and boring. Sorry dude, but your life as a translator wasn't nearly as interesting as reading about a hostess girl or maybe a geisha. The more I read about Japan, the less I want to visit there. It's exotic, but maybe not in a good way. Their traditions are a little old school if you ask me, but then they kick butt in the intellectual department, so they must be doing something right.
he was the premier translator of oe and mishima, and the first non-japanese to enroll in tokyo university! this guy is obviously my personal hero, but his recounting other movie endeavors, business, life, love, etc., is a great read. i loved it!